It's Only the Flu
by JenRar
Summary: When Lester doesn't hear from Steph, he & Bobby go to her apartment...where Les feels like he needs a hazmat suit. Just a short, fluff-piece.


_Disclaimer: JE owns them. I do not._

~oooOOOooo~

**It's Only the Flu**

~oOo~

**Lester's POV**

"Yo, Tank," I said, knocking on the door to Tank's office.

"What's up?" Tank looked busy behind the desk. I knew he was swamped with paperwork since Ranger had been "in the wind," as Steph calls it, for the last two weeks.

"I was supposed to meet Bomber at the bonds office this morning, but Lula and Connie said she hasn't shown up, and it's nearly noon now."

"Have you gone to her apartment or tried calling her?" He was already turning to the computer, pulling up her GPS location.

"Yeah, I called. It went straight to voicemail."

"Both trackers show her at her place. I talked to her Friday, and she was okay then. Lula talked to her Saturday early in the afternoon and she had a little cold, but otherwise was fine. Go ahead and go check on her. Take Bobby with you."

I nodded and turned around to leave the office, heading down the hall to the stairs to go to Bobby's apartment. "Yo, Bobby, open up, man," I called as I banged on the door.

The door was flung open on the third knock. "Someone better be dead," Bobby growled.

I knew he'd been up all night and morning taking care of Binkie after a skip's bullet had grazed his shoulder during a takedown the night before, but he looked horrible. I knew that no matter how he was feeling, he would be alarmed about Steph and would want to go to her in case he was needed, so I wasn't worried about the surly attitude.

"Yo, man, sorry about waking you. No one's heard from Stephanie in a couple of days, and she didn't show up to meet me at the bonds office this morning."

He was already turned back, throwing on clothes at the mention of Steph.

"Lula told Tank that Bomber sounded like she had a cold on Saturday afternoon, but that's the latest anyone's talked to her. Tank told me to take you with me when I go check on her."

By the time I was done with my speech, Bobby was back at the door, medical bag in hand, tucking his gun into the back of his cargoes, and herding me out the door to lock it behind us.

We were quiet as we drove the short drive to her apartment. My eyes automatically scanned the parking lot, and when I didn't see anything that didn't belong, I looked up at her window. It was still and dark as we exited the SUV and headed for the apartment.

We ran up the stairs, our boots making very little noise, and when we got to her door, I quietly picked the lock. We enterered silently, guns drawn, hoping for the best but, like always with Steph, expecting the worst.

The smell hit us as we entered, and my heart nearly stopped. It took only a second for it to register that it wasn't the smell of a dead body, and I immediately felt so relieved that I nearly wept.

"She's sick," Bobby said quietly. "It smells like she's been throwing up for days. Can't you smell that?"

Now that he mentioned it, I gagged. "Oh man, that is rank! Let's find her and get her back to RangeMan."

We quietly made our way back to Steph's bedroom door.

I knocked and said, "Beautiful? Steph? It's Lester. I'm coming in. Bobby's with me. Don't shoot."

We walked in to find Steph curled up in a blanket on the floor beside the bed. Her normally wild, curly hair was plastered against her head from sweat. Her face was pale and her eyes bloodshot. I looked at Bobby.

"She threw up long enough and hard enough that she broke a few blood vessels in her eyes. Not a big deal. I'm concerned about dehydration and a fever right now. Call Tank and ask him to send Ella with a possible decontamination team. I think we're going to need a professional to clean this up." His arms made a sweeping gesture around the room.

Tissues littered the floor. The bed was soaked with sweat and had been thrown up on at least twice. There were several spots on the floor between the bed and the bathroom where you could tell she'd been trying to get to the toilet to throw up but had failed to make it in time.

I pulled out my cell phone and made my way to the living room, where the air was a bit more bearable. Bobby stayed with Steph to check her over before making a decision as to whether to bring her back to the office with us or take her straight to the hospital.

I laughed as I quickly dialed the number for Tank's cell. Life with Stephanie was never boring. Disgusting and gross sometimes, but certainly not boring.


End file.
